


lullabies

by sebootyslay



Series: avengers fragments [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 04:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebootyslay/pseuds/sebootyslay
Summary: Bucky walks into Natasha singing a lullaby and decides to sing along





	lullabies

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by a post on tumblr about this, so enjoy! also it is only a short drabble of sorts

“Fucking hell Stevie,” Bucky murmured as Steve piled more and more laundry in his arms. “How many shirts did you go through the week?”

“Hey, no complaining since you lost the bet. Get to it, pal.” Steve grinned as he smacked Bucky’s back. The brunette muttered something under his breath that sounds like Russian cursing before stepping out of their shared room.

Bucky lost a bet with Steve and now he was stuck with laundry duty for a week. It’s not like he doesn’t know how to do laundry. Stark has the most technologically advanced machines equipped all around the tower and _that_ is a problem to him since apparently the genius billionaire forgot that he lived in the fucking 40’s and don’t know how to operate half the things in the tower. Grunting as he almost hit an antique vase on his way down, Bucky managed to stumble to the laundry room.

Being a supersoldier assassin has its perks. One of them being able to walk around without making a noise despite weighing almost 200 lbs of muscle. When he neared the laundry room, he realized that it wasn’t empty. Natasha Romanoff was folding clothes in one corner, her back facing the door. Bucky never had a real conversation with the lady since his arrival to the Stark tower a few weeks ago. They only communicated during missions and made small talk in between group discussions. Other than that, Bucky and Natasha never really talked.

Slowly approaching the room, he noticed that the other assassin was _singing_. Her voice was slow and soft, almost entrancing. Bucky froze for a while, his mind recognizing the words to the old lullaby.

 

Спи, младенец мой прекрасный, _(Sleep, good boy, my beautiful)_

Баюшки-баю. _(Bayushki bayu)_

Тихо смотрит месяц ясный _(Quietly the moon is looking)_

В колыбель твою. _(into your cradle.)_

Стану сказывать я сказки, _(I will tell you fairy tales)_

Песенку спою; _(And sing you little songs)_

Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки, _(But you must slumber, with your little eyes closed)_

Баюшки-баю. _(Bayushki bayu.)_

Bucky had never heard Natasha sing before, and to be honest, her voice was low and sweet and pleasant to the ears. He slowly placed the basket of clothes in his hands on the machine with a soft thud. Natasha didn’t react, but he knew she heard it. Bucky waited for her to sing the next verse, but the woman was quiet, only hands deftly folding the dried clothes on the counter. Bucky didn’t think long before he opened his mouth.

 

Сам узнаешь, будет время, _(The time will come, then you will learn)_

Бранное житье; _(The pugnacious life,)_

Смело вденешь ногу в стремя _(Boldly you'll stem your foot into the stirrup)_

He saw her hands froze. His voice was rough and raspy, not as near as good as Natasha’s, but that seemed to get her attention. Bucky unloaded the laundry like nothing was happening as he still kept singing.

 

И возьмешь ружье. _(And take the gun)_

Я седельце боевое _(The saddle-cloth for your battle horse)_

Шелком разошью... _(I will sew you from silk.)_

Спи, дитя мое родное, _(Sleep now, my dear little child)_

Bucky smiled a bit when he heard Natasha’s voice singing along to the last line of the verse;

 

Баюшки-баю. _(Bayushki bayu)_

Bucky glanced over his shoulder to look at the agent. Natasha was looking at him as well, leaning her body against the counter, eyes gazing into his. They didn’t say anything, but it was as if everything was already said. The corner of his lips lifted a little, and Natasha did the same. They both turned back to their task at hand, but their voices filled the room.

 

Bogatyr' ty budesh' s vidu _(You will look like a hero)_

I kazak dushoy. _(And be a Cossack deep in your heart.)_

Provozhat' tebya ya vyydu — _(I will hurry to accompany you,)_

Ty makhnesh' rukoy... _(You will just wave your hand)_

Skol'ko gor'kikh slez ukradkoy _(How many secret bitter tears)_

Ya v tu noch' prol'yu!.. _(Will I shed that night!)_

Spi, moy angel, tikho, sladko, _(Sleep, my angel, calmly, sweetly,)_

Bayushki-bayu. _(Bayushki bayu.)_

Clint let out a frustrated grunt at the stain on his shirt. It was a new shirt, and the stain will stay if he doesn’t get rid of it immediately. Cursing under his breath, he pulled on a new shirt and grabbed the stained one to go wash. As he was nearing the laundry room, he heard voices inside. Not just any voices, Nat’s and Bucky’s to be exact, and they seem like they are... singing.

Peeking in, he saw Bucky and Nat both doing their own chores but their voices are singing the same song. He recognized it as an old Russian lullaby and his eyes widened. He now has two master assassins, one who really kicks ass in fights and one who had a metal arm and a _very_ intimidating death stride, singing together old Russian lullabies. A deadly and lethal combination despite the fact that they were doing completely harmless and domestic things.

 _Nope,_ he thought. _Not today, thank you very much,_ he though before backpedalling out of there. The new shirt can stain for all he cares.


End file.
